


Alive

by reed_fermadness



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Female Homosexuality, Female Relationships, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 16:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1695500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reed_fermadness/pseuds/reed_fermadness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"My lady, forgive me, I don't know what to say." Margaery leaned in and brushed her full lips against Sansa's ear. "Don't say anything." FEMSLASH. Margaery/Sansa</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive

**"Alive"**

Ship: Margaery/Sansa

Rating: T

The vast gardens of King's Landing were filled with a medley of beautiful flowers. Aside from the serenity of the godswood, this was Sansa Stark's favorite place in the prison she now called home. Their sweet aroma was overwhelming, but certainly preferable to the other assortment of smells the city offered. Though, of course, the gardens were within the boundaries of the Red Keep. One could almost forget how many people outside those walls were starving and living in squalor.

It was midday as Ser Loras Tyrell strolled arm in arm with Sansa, escorting her to meet with his sister, Lady Margaery .  _He is a knight like the ones in the songs._  Sansa thought, blushing as she admired him; thick curly brown hair falling to his shoulders, dressed in perfectly fitted lavish green and gold brocade silks. She must have felt her long gaze and turned and gave her a courteous smile. She withdrew her eyes, embarrassed. She tried to think of something to say.

"I don't think I have been properly introduced to Lady Margaery." Ser Loras look almost startled, as if he had forgotten she was there altogether.  _Stupid…stupid._ Sansa bit her lip.

"Ah. Yes, she is very much looking forward to meeting you, Lady Sansa." His tone was polite and formal.  _He is growing bored of me._ She frowned and let her mind wander.  _His sister will be as beautiful as he is. Perhaps, even more beautiful._ Her heartbeat quickened. What if Margaery did not like her? What if she thought Sansa was a stupid little girl just like the queen did? Ser Loras may be kind, but what if his sister wasn't? She did not have to wait long to find out.

"Lady Sansa, it is an honor to introduce my sister, Lady Margaery." Sansa's heart stopped in her chest. Before her, stood the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She had hair like her brother's, but thicker and cascaded into long waves to her waist. Her eyes were almond shaped, so deep and lovely that Sansa felt them swallow her whole like a tub of warm water. She wore green and gold brocade silk like her brother, but in a dress with short sleeves and a neckline that plunged between her round breasts. Sansa felt a flutter in her stomach that she had never felt before, taking in all that was this perfect human being.  _I can't just stand here with my jaw open, she will think me a fool. I must say something quickly. Why is it so hard?_ Her eyes scanned her again and when they came back to her breasts, she felt that flutter again and quickly met her eyes.

"My lady." Was all Sansa could muster. Her voice shook despite herself.

"I will take my leave." Ser Loras' voice startled her like she was the one who forgot he was there this time. He bowed and the siblings shared a mutual smirk as if they had some private joke.  _They are making fun of me._ She wanted to cry, to run away.  _I am a Stark of Winterfell._

"Lady Sansa. I have been longing to meet you ever since I became betrothed to King Joffrey." She took a step closer to Sansa. Sansa's breath quickened as Margaery took Sansa's cheek into her hand. She stroked her thumb across Sansa's bottom lip. "You must feel thrown aside. I assure you that it was my father's bidding. He needed the marriage to ensure our family's position." Her voice was smoother than the silk she wore. Sansa was taken aback, certainly out of her comfort level. She had never been this…friendly with anyone; not even Jeyne Poole.

"I am the daughter of a traitor. I have traitor's blood. I am not suitable for His Grace."  _As long as I keep talking, I will be fine._ Her world was crashing down in a different and unexpected way. All of her stories and songs and lessons in etiquette had not prepared her for any of the horror she had endured, nor had they prepared her for the eager touch of Margaery. The aching in her core had only been secret whispers and giggles shared with Jeyne. "I am not suitable." She repeated, her voice shaking once again. "I am not good enough. I-"

"Shush, my lady." Margaery took another step closer. "I know what you've been through. I cannot imagine what you feel, I will not pretend to, but," She dropped her hand to lace her fingers through Sansa's. "When I saw you standing there in the throne room, you looked like the saddest girl I had ever seen. Ever since then, I have thought about nothing else but you."

"Me? My lady, forgive me, I don't know what to say." Margaery leaned in and brushed her full lips against Sansa's ear.

"Don't say anything." Their lips met and Sansa felt a different type of fear, a wild and heated fear; a rush, a frenzy. She felt alive. Margaery broke the kiss, but Sansa could still smell and taste the heat of Margaery's mouth. Margaery gave her an apologetic look.  _I am a Stark of Winterfell._ Sansa thought as she wrapped her arms around Margaery, and hungrily thrust her toungue into her mouth.

**FIN.**


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